Taking Turns
by Gorramit Girl
Summary: Something about them is different; they know that. Others insist on calling it a "twin thing," but they don't understand - they don't notice. It's not some "twin thing." No, what's between them, between brother and brother, Connor and Murphy… it's deeper. It means more. It's… it's better.


**A/N: **Just my little interpretation of the MacManus brothers before and after the first movie. There are a couple of ethnic slurs between the brothers and Rocco, typical of what you would hear in the movie.

**Taking Turns**

* * *

Sometimes they think something must have gone horribly wrong with them. Or horribly right, depending. Something about them is different; they know that. Others insist on calling it a "twin thing," but they don't _understand_ - they don't notice. It's not some "twin thing." No, what's between them, between brother and brother, Connor and Murphy… it's deeper. It means more. It's… it's _better_.

It's everything.

()()()

_Ireland_

By the time they're five, the boys both know that Connor is their Ma's favorite. Oh, sure, she loves them both equally, they're her _boys_, her sons, and she lives for them, gives them what she can. But there's a bond between Connor and Ma that Murphy can never seem to penetrate. He sits on the outside looking in.

Ma's loud and stern and the very best Ma anyone could have. She loves them and keeps them in line and jokes with them - Connor especially, while Murphy observes quietly, deep blue eyes taking in all. Connor and Ma have an easy rapport.

Murphy is the one she doesn't really understand - he's not loud or aggressive, to her way of looking. He doesn't demand the world sit up and take notice of him, the way Connor does, or the way she once did. He reminds her, she thinks when she's alone in her bedroom and taking that last sip of whiskey before she turns in for the night, of his and Connor's father.

"Wherever the bastard is."

She never tells the boys about their father.

()()()

_Boston_

Their boss never bothers to put them on separate shifts. Everything about them gives the unspoken understanding of "package deal." He may change the shifts for the pair of them, but they're never separated.

The other workers don't mind - Connor and Murphy do their work, pulling their weight and then some. They often help the others with theirs, if needed.

()()()

_Ireland_

When they're seven years old, the MacManus brothers are separated in school for the first time. Their class is so big that two teachers are hired and the class is randomly split in two. Connor and Murphy refuse to come out of their room for three whole days when they get the news. Some of the time was spent crying. The rest of the time... well, twins are naturally mischievous, aren't they?

The first day of school Connor and Murphy arrive together, in step as always. They don't talk to anyone else, even their usual friends (or at least, as close as friends the twins would allow, because Connor and Murphy are each other's _best_ friend). They refuse to part until the very last bell prompting classes start and each sits alone, uncomfortable, and defiant in his classroom.

Two separate classes, two similar behaviors.

The boys don't talk in English. Or Gaelic. They speak in a mix of German and Italian, which neither teacher understands. They don't share their supplies with their classmates. They don't pay attention. They don't _care_.

Each gets sent to the headmaster's office by 10 o'clock that morning.

They're in the same class sitting next to each other by 12 o'clock that day.

Ma has a tear in her eye even as she shouts at the boys later for being so damn stubborn. "Waste an entire day of schooling, why don't you?" But her actions speak for themselves, as the dessert is still made and allowed the boys.

()()()

Connor, on the outside, appears the more energetic, charismatic one - Murphy heard a teacher say that word when he was seven, _charismatic_ - sounded like a stupid word, he thought. But Murphy knows that Connor is deeply thoughtful - the times he gets lost inside his own head are often, and Murphy has always been the only one who can find him in the twisting mire raging in Connor's mind. He appears better behaved, doesn't get into trouble as much as Murphy, even though he's usually the one who prompts the trouble Murphy gets into. Connor just doesn't get caught - doesn't get called up to the teacher's desk or into the headmaster's office.

Murphy, in turn, appears the quiet, thoughtful one. Father O'Malley called him _pensive_ once, and Connor had rushed into the library the next day at school to look up what the word meant. But inside Murphy is a tightly coiled spring of energy, Connor thinks, constantly on the verge of shooting off. He has a way of spinning words and his general silence and tendency to let Connor do the talking gives the words he does speak more weight, makes them more entrancing. Murphy jumps in, often without looking, with only a word from Connor to go on. Connor may be the one to scheme, but Murphy is the one who dreams - and usually accomplishes whatever it is that Connor is planning.

Ma enjoys watching her boys grow up, even though she knows that at 10 years old, the boys are far, far from their most devious and entertaining. She'd dread them becoming teenagers, if they weren't so damn endearing when their faces were laced with insincere guilt over whatever stunt they'd just pulled.

()()()

_Boston_

Anyone who notices the connection between the MacManus brothers doesn't speak on it. It just gets quietly observed, tucked away, and forgotten.

The pair walk in step, communicate with merely a tilt of a head, a slight twitch of a hand. They live together and go to Mass together. They work together at the same job and work between them is smooth and natural - even from their first day. Everything about them puzzles and fascinates those who know them even casually. A few have gotten close to them, like Rocco and Doc. Others tend to just step back and be entertained, entranced, or puzzled by the pair.

The boys chatting up with women is a rare thing and no woman ever leaves with them. It causes some discontent with the local female population - it's not fair for two gorgeous men with heart-melting accents to be so disinterested in their female charms. But the boys, the wiser women finally accept, are more interested in each other than in anyone else. It's not done to be rude, it's just the way it is.

Still, more than one woman keeps her nights hot with imaginings of the MacManus brothers.

()()()

_Ireland_

Murphy is the first to go steady with a girl, which shocks Ma and Connor and their various aunts and uncles. Some family members give him puzzled looks - why him first? Connor's the charming one - it'd make more sense for Connor to be the first. Still, it's good to see Murphy acting like a normal lad, isn't it? And it's only a matter of time before Connor steals the heart of some pretty lass as well, they agree. Murphy pays no great attention, used as he is to his family's curious looks about him.

Murphy sees Maureen Lynch for three months. She's a pretty thing, Maureen is, with curly brown hair and wide green eyes. She's smart as a whip - more than capable of handling Murphy's quick mind, and, when he chooses to use it, quicker tongue.

Connor's not far behind, when he finally gathers up the courage to ask Shannon O'Toole to take a walk with him after Mass one Sunday morning. Shannon's quiet and steady and her cropped red hair and soft brown eyes warm Connor's heart, even if they don't quite melt it.

The family expects the foursome to double date. It never happens.

For the first time, Connor and Murphy appear to be content apart. It's only taken fifteen years.

()()()

When the boys are sixteen, Connor looks at Murphy one day and just _knows_. A part of his brother, a part of _himself_, he realizes, has been given to someone else.

He showers that night and is grateful for the hot water masking the hotter tears that stream down his tanned face.

He doesn't tell Murphy "Goodnight," doesn't even _glance_ at him.

Murphy leaves before Ma and Connor wake the next morning. He comes back to his mother and brother eating breakfast together. They look up in surprise and he just shrugs and says, "Went to Mass," before walking over to start putting together a plate for himself.

It's only after Murphy offers to clean the dishes and the rest of the kitchen that Connor realizes it's a Wednesday - confession day, at their church.

()()()

Murphy doesn't ever talk about it. A few days after, he comes home right after school, walking in step with Connor, who eyes him suspiciously.

It's the same thing when Ma sees the pair of them stride into the kitchen. "Thought you were going to a movie with the Ferguson girl," she says to Murphy, almost accusingly.

"Not seeing her anymore," is all Murphy will answer.

Connor doesn't want to think about how happy it makes him. Ma pretends not to notice, too.

()()()

It's only a few months after Murphy's change that Connor charms his way up her skirt and into Eileen Finnigan's bed one night while her parents are out.

It's quick and awkward and the tears might have been from the both of them. He doesn't remember much - doesn't _want_ to remember - and when he does it's only the heat along with a few moans from Eileen. Most of all when he remembers, he remembers a sinking feeling of shame.

He understands why Murphy doesn't talk about, understands why Murphy went to confession the first chance he got.

Connor goes too and hopes that one day soon he and his brother will be able to look each other in the eyes.

()()()

_Boston_

A pretty thing - maybe 22 or 23 - stalks out of sight, nose in the air. A few catcalls follow her and her parting words are something to the effect of threatening to shove a knife up someone's ass.

"Girl was practically begging to suck you off!" Rocco says, slapping Murphy upside the head. "Why didn't you jump on that?"

Murphy just sips his beer and smiles slightly. "Not my type."

"Is he always like this?" Rocco asks Connor, bewildered.

Connor shrugs. "He wants to fuck, he'll fuck."

"She was eyeing you too!" Rocco just shakes his head. "Both of you could be up to your fucking Mick dicks in pussy and you don't bother! You two confuse the hell out of me."

"Words confuse the hell out of you, you lousy wop," Murphy says with a laugh.

"Fuck you!" He turns to Doc, who's watching the trio, amused. "I need another beer, Fuck Ass."

Connor and Murphy share a look that Rocco doesn't notice. It's an old look, that one.

()()()

_Ireland_

When the boys are 17, Connor comes down with pneumonia in the winter. Ma, in a rare event, actually summons the village Doctor. Connor and Murphy have always been so healthy - the Doctor was almost never needed.

Connor coughs, deep, chest rattling, aching coughs. His normally tanned skin is washed out and the boys' room smells like sweat and sick. Ma's told Murphy to kip out on the couch but Murphy ignores her and insists on staying by Connor's side.

He cries quietly in the shower after the Doctor grimly tells Ma to prepare herself. He tells himself that if Connor goes, so will he. But he can't let that happen, he knows. Connor _has_ to get better.

So he sits by Connor's bedside constantly, tells Ma to tell the school officials to fuck off about his attendance because he's _not_ leaving Connor's side. He mops Connor's brow, forces small amounts of broth and medicine down Connor's throat, washes and dresses Connor and changes the bedclothes whenever it's needed. He never notices Ma standing in the doorway with tears in her eyes.

Murphy barely eats, barely remembers to drink even water. He runs himself ragged, looking after Connor, but he doesn't care. Connor is his _brother_. Connor _needs_ him. He _needs_ Connor. He falls asleep in his chair night after night, his hand holding Connor's, their fingers interlaced.

"Don't leave me brother. I won't ever do it again," he promises in shaking Gaelic. "Never."

He feels Connor's fingers twitch slightly.

His eyes can't remain open any longer and he succumbs to sleep.

()()()

A rap to his head wakes him up. He looks up with bleary eyes to see Connor sitting up, smiling weakly. "Sleeping in, you lazy fuck?" he teases.

With a sob Murphy launches himself at Connor, hugging him and kissing his forehead.

"Hey, hey," Connor soothes him. "It's okay, Murph. It's all going to be okay. I'm not leaving you."

Murphy continues to hold Connor, continues to cry.

Ma comes in later, crosses herself and hugs and kisses him around Murphy, who refuses to budge. "Don't you ever pull something like that on me again, you little shit," she warns Connor. "'Bout sent me to an early grave, that did."

Murphy helps Connor to the shower and sits on the toilet as Connor cleans himself for the first time in over a week.

Murphy showers after Connor and while he's occupied, Connor seeks out Ma.

"He didn't leave your side," Ma tells him before he can ask. "He wouldn't let anyone else near you, not after what the Doc said."

After those two weeks, Connor and Murphy are never apart.

()()()

_Boston_

Murphy announces he's going to run down to the convenience store a block over to grab a carton of cigarettes. Connor puts his shoes on and goes with him.

The next day Connor notices that they're running low on their stash of beer. Murphy hands Connor his coat even as he puts his own on.

It's a rare event to see them apart, the neighborhood vaguely notices.

()()()

_Ireland_

The boys work the entire year, nearly every day, when they're 19. Old Mr. Murray has need of a few farm hands and the boys gladly accept the work. They're no strangers to hard work; they've been helping Ma for years and neither one of them cuts squares on chores. The pay is more than fair - better than they'd ever get anywhere else for harder work.

It's an unspoken thing between them - the money is being saved for America. They haven't told Ma; can't even start _thinking_ about telling Ma. There's nothing for them in Ireland. They both know that. Everyone who knows them knows that. They wouldn't be the first to leave their quiet little spot in the greenest place on Earth for the promise of something better over in America.

Connor and Murphy average four hours of sleep a night that year. They somehow find it within them to stay awake and alert during Mass (which they never miss) but otherwise, apart from work, all bets are off.

Ma knows, though. She sees the glints in their eyes, the fire that burns in them. Her boys are meant for something more, something better. And she'll cry her tears of pain and drown herself in a bottle for a few days when they leave, but she'll let them leave all the same, and force no guilt (except maybe a little, just to remind them she's their _Ma_) on them when they go away.

They tell her a week before their 20th birthday. Tell her they've been planning this for a few years now and how they're sorry they've kept it from her.

She laughs, call the pair of them asses. "I'm your Ma. I knew before you two did."

()()()

_Boston_

Their housing suits them just fine.

Rocco doesn't get it - his job is worse than theirs and he has a relatively nice place. It ain't no Motel 6 quality, but it's nice.

Connor and Murphy's, on the other hand... it's a fucking _room_, for fuck's sake! A giant fucking room. Nothing is defined. There's almost zero privacy. And the door to the place doesn't even fucking lock right. (He swears he'll fix it one day, since it was him in a drunken stupor who had kicked the handle into oblivion.) Sure, there's a shower curtain and all, but it don't even look like it's been pulled open to be used.

Connor and Murphy don't seem to mind none, though, so Rocco lets it go.

"We're just a pair of simple blokes," Connor says, the first time Rocco asks them why their place is such shit.

"Suits us just fine. Got everything we need," Murphy adds, glancing about the place with a look of pride. "All the shitholes in all of the United Fucking States of America and this one's fucking ours."

Connor snorts and Rocco just shakes his head, and decides the pair of them are just too strange sometimes. Must be an Irish thing.

They don't know. They never will. And they're okay with that.

()()()

Ma, back in Ireland, bless her, is the only soul on God's green earth who knows which brother came out first. Even their father, she'd said on one of the rare occasions she'd spoken of him, didn't know. A midwife had been present, Ma had said, but she'd been bribed into silence with a bottle of Jameson. She'd died when the boys were 12, taking the secret to her grave.

Ma will never tell them, they realize.

It's okay, they know, because they take turns.

Sometimes Connor is the older brother, when he concocts his bizarre schemes and mad plots. He's the older brother when Murphy has had too much to drink and can't walk straight but instead insists on singing "Danny Boy" with a few verses that he generally makes up on the spot and don't make a lick of sense.

Other times, Murphy is the older brother, pulling Connor back from his wild flights of imagination. He's the older brother when Connor has inevitably said something to piss someone off, causing that person to lash out at Connor - then Murphy, well, he respects the hell out of that someone by planting his fist in that person's face.

They're brothers. They take turns.

()()()

The MacManus brothers always call in sick together. It's never one or the other, always the pair of them. Floyd, their supervisor, never bats an eye now. When Connor and Murphy return to work, it's near impossible to tell which of them has been sick. He knows that one is taking care of the other, but he never comments on it.

Some things are best kept between brothers and a body should be so lucky as to have someone to care for them that much.

()()()

Today is different. They don't exactly know how, but they've woken up, just about the same time, and just had the eerie sense that nothing is ever going to be the same again. They don't panic, don't comment on it, just share a look that says "Yeah, I feel it." and go about their day.

Mass goes the same. A Monsignor from across town shows up as a guest for Mass and Connor and Murphy, absorbed in their devotions, ignore him. Their regular, Father McKenna, starts his sermon (different today, on St. Patrick's Day, that the Mass is out of order) and Connor and Murphy head up to the alter, Connor leading the way.

They pray at the feet of Jesus, oblivious to the world around them. They finish, kiss his feet in reverence, then leave.

Then they hear Father McKenna's words whilst tucking in their rosaries.

_Now, we must all fear evil men. But, there is another kind of evil which we must fear most: The _**indifference**_ of good men._

()()()

Blood rained from the sky in the name of their God. They were called to do it, and they followed where He lead. They even guided the lost sheep back into His flock.

_And shepherds we shall be,  
For Thee, my Lord, for Thee.  
Power hath descended forth from Thy hand,  
That our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command.  
So we shall flow a river forth to Thee  
And teeming with souls shall it ever be.  
In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.  
Amen._

()()()

It's surreal having Da with them. They barely thought of him for their entire lives and now he's here, with them. They flee back to Ireland and they live a simple life.

Their guns and money, their jackets and jeans, they're all locked and buried.

They've stopped being Saints, instead taking up their place as Shepherds.

(Murphy's their Da's favorite.)

()()()

Inevitably the call comes again. Once more they are baptized in His fire and once again the damned will fall and meet their sins.

They leave for America, Connor and Murphy.

They'll go down, together.

* * *

I hope you enjoy! Questions and comments are greatly appreciated!


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